


i just know you gotta taste like candy, girl

by leatherandlace



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Halloween!, a little something to kick this season off, mellivia bitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leatherandlace/pseuds/leatherandlace
Summary: All she wanted was a little get together with OPA and a couple others, a quaint little costume party with special punch and maybe some festive desserts, not getting blackout drunk with Olivia in a closet, pawing at each other like they were the last pumpkin-themed cupcake.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HEY GUYS!!! I'm aware that this isn't the best fic, but it's something to kick off a Mellivia Season of fics for me--the end of a horribly long hiatus! If you love Mellivia as much as I do, then you're going to love what's coming up in the future. Hope you like this! Oh and by the way, this title is taken from Hayley Kiyoko's "Pretty Girl" which is an amazing song (and that whole album). xoxox.

 

 

Mellie wasn’t sure how the night of Halloween ended up like it did.

           

 

All she wanted was a little get together with OPA and a couple others, a quaint little costume party with special punch and maybe some festive desserts, not getting blackout drunk with Olivia in a closet, pawing at each other like they were the last pumpkin-themed cupcake.

 

 

**45 minutes earlier…**

 

 

“Mellie, I think you might be a little drunk.” Quinn chuckled as Mellie swayed in her spot, her Ghostbusters costume proton pack (and the intense amount of hooch in her system) tipping her over on the spot. Mellie wasn’t listening to her though, instead staring across the room at Olivia. Olivia had chosen to take the witch route for Halloween, and as soon as she walked into OPA, (the orange streamers in the doorway brushing past her like magic) Mellie was enraptured with the black velvety fabric draped onto Olivia, complete with a slit up the leg (and a pointed hat for good measure).

           

 

Mellie had had a little too much to drink, and now all she could think about was that little strip of skin she could see poking out of Olivia’s dress, and the deep red lipstick on her lips, how _badly_ she wanted to--

           

 

“You should go home before you do anything stupid, Mellie.” Quinn followed Mellie’s gaze and shook her head.

           

 

Mellie watched Olivia as she laughed with Abby across the room with an unbridled want, taking another sip of her drink, “What if I _want_ to do something stupid?” At that moment, Olivia turned her head just enough to catch Mellie’s eye, and she smiled brightly, downing the rest of her glass with a wink. She could hear Quinn talking next to her, but she could think of nothing but Olivia, nothing but her dress and soft hands and what they would feel like on her. Mellie wasn’t even trying to disguise her intentions, either, staring persistently at Olivia as she drank her hooch.

           

 

Every once in awhile, Olivia would turn to look at her, and each time she did it longer, and each time Mellie could feel her resolve (as well as see Olivia’s) dissolve a little bit more.

           

 

Eventually, Olivia ventured away from whatever conversation she was having with Abby and wandered towards the snack table. Mellie followed her with a razor sharp gaze, and Olivia could only classify the stare as some form of eye sex. Olivia jerked her head towards the exit with a wink, making one last bout of eye contact with Mellie before leaving the room and going into the hallway.

           

 

Mellie shivered, pushing her glass into Quinn’s hand and walking away. She ignored Quinn’s questions and exited the room as well, coming out into an empty hallway. Mellie heard a quiet knock, and turned around to find a closet. She smirked to herself and pushed it open.

 

 

*******

 

 

“Why did you choose _this_ costume, out of all things?” Olivia growled, trying desperately to unzip Mellie’s Ghostbusters jumpsuit--her drunken fingers, however, were fumbling with the zipper so that she couldn’t undo it as swiftly as she might’ve sober.

           

 

Mellie’s fingers slid away from Olivia’s ass as she pushed her away, practically ripping the zipper off of her jumpsuit in a hurry to get it off, “There, it’s not _that_ hard.” She mumbled, crushing her lips against Olivia’s once again. Mellie, who practically turned into a sexual prowess when drunk, slid her hands under Olivia’s black dress, grinning at Olivia’s shuddered response, “You should’ve painted yourself green.” Mellie commented as she unzipped the back of Olivia’s dress. “It would’ve completed the outfit.”

           

 

“Shut up and take off your jumpsuit.” Olivia undertook the request herself, shouldering off Mellie’s clothes and revealing her black bra and panties. She leaned in and bit Mellie’s neck harder than either of them expected her to.

           

 

Mellie gasped as Olivia palmed her breasts with a lustful ferocity, “Eager, are we, Miss Pope?”

           

 

“Absolutely.” Olivia mumbled as she dragged her lips from Mellie’s neck to her collarbone, making her way further down as Mellie rested her head against the wall. “I’ve been waiting for this for as long as I can remember.”

           

 

Olivia’s hands moved further down with every kiss, and Mellie grabbed her wrist, “You know, _I_ was the one hitting on _you_ , shouldn’t I be doing the work?”  
           

 

“Trust me, this isn’t work.” Olivia flashed a smile.

           

 

Mellie was just about to come undone then, but a knock on the door interrupted them. “Mellie? Are you in there?” Quinn’s voice sounded from the other side of the closet.

           

 

“Shit,” Mellie mumbled under her breath, “Um...yeah!” She grumbled, trying and failing to quickly zip up her jumpsuit. “Just a minute!”  
           

 

“What are you doing in there?” Quinn asked, trailing off as Mellie tripped over Olivia’s leg and knocked into the wall. “Are you okay?”

           

 

Olivia started to laugh, and soon enough she couldn’t stop, so Mellie had to put her hands over Olivia’s mouth to keep her from alerting Quinn. “Hide behind the coats!” Mellie whisper-screamed, pushing her that she was obscured by wool and leather.

           

 

Mellie smoothed down her hair and left the closet, facing Quinn with a smile, “I was just looking for my coat, I think I’m going to head home.”

           

 

Quinn nodded, though she didn’t seem too convinced. “Good idea. I’ll drive.” Mellie nodded, and as they hit the elevator button and the lift door closed behind them, Mellie looked longingly at the closet in the hallway until it disappeared.

 

 

 

 

Mellie had successfully avoided Olivia for three days post Halloween, doing absolutely whatever she could so that they didn’t end up in the same room, or anywhere where Olivia could possibly bring up what had happened in that closet.

           

 

She had mixed feelings herself about what had happened. Mellie couldn’t say it was the first time she had thought about kissing Olivia, drunk or sober, but she never would have done it if she _was_ sober. But what about Olivia? She had said she wanted to ‘do this’ with Mellie for as long as she could remember...was that just the alcohol talking, or was it legitimate? Mellie couldn’t help but wander there, couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if Quinn hadn’t interrupted them.

           

 

Either way, she didn’t have time to muddle through her crazed emotions right then. Vargas was up in the polls--only by a fraction of a percent, but up nonetheless. Mellie needed to focus on gaining public approval, not alienate herself more by being caught making out with Olivia Pope like a couple of teenagers.      

           

 

(Of course, things--as they mostly always did--didn’t turn out that way.)

           

 

A knock on Mellie’s office door jilted her from her thoughts, and after getting up and looking through the peephole, Mellie sighed, “Olivia, I’m busy.”

           

 

“Mellie, we need to talk.” Olivia frowned, looking uncharacteristically nervous and uncomfortable.

           

 

“I can think of nothing you’d want to talk about. Please leave before I call security.” Mellie clenched her fists and crossed her arms, talking through the door so Olivia couldn’t see her facial expressions, which were not nearly as firm as her words.

           

 

Olivia sighed, “Is this really how you’re going to handle the situation, Mellie? Denying everything?”

           

 

“Again, I strongly disagree that we need to talk about anything other than campaign. Unless that’s what this is about?” Mellie hadn’t decided until that moment that she was going to be an asshole about everything that happened, but really, how else did she think she’d deter Olivia from the subject (if Olivia _could_ be deterred)?

           

 

She was ready to give another retort, but Olivia’s heels clacked down the hallway until the sound faded. Mellie couldn’t help but lean her back against the door, wondering why in the hell she just hadn’t listened to Quinn and stopped after one drink.

 

 

**iii.**

 

 

Over the past week of lying in her bed, pondering her life’s problems, Mellie had come to memorize the pattern of her all too familiar ceiling. Dark wooden panels, stacked up next to each other, speckled with dark eyes and a few well placed ceiling lights. It was as if her mind recognized the sight and knew what it must mean, and as soon as she stared at her tall and slanted ceiling, her brain went into anxiety ridden, cycling, wondering, and pondering about the one and only Olivia Pope.

           

 

What was she _thinking_ kissing Olivia? She had a campaign to run, a _presidential_ campaign to run, to _win_ , she had kids to raise, she had a life to live.

           

 

She had _feelings_ to subdue.

           

 

Bringing Olivia into the equation had always been a frightening prospect, whether it be as her husband’s mistress, her campaign manager, and lately (tentatively), her friend. Mellie didn’t have the time or the mental capacity to think of Olivia the way she had been thinking of her for the past week, which is, to say, scandalously. No matter how hard she tried, whenever she slowed down her mind and stopped working for more than five minutes, her mind would eventually wander towards Olivia, her lips on hers in that tiny closet, her hands wandering over the planes of Mellie’s stomach and beyond. Mellie’s own hands would wander to her collarbone, feeling the outline of the dark purple hickey Olivia had left, and it sent shivers down her spine.

           

 

And it was as if Olivia _wanted_ Mellie to suffer, constantly dropping by her office and asking to ‘talk’ (as if talking was going to alleviate the massive weight on Mellie’s chest), giving Mellie that infuriating look of hers. Olivia made it worse with every step she made, her heels clicking on the floor, arm swinging by her side, looking untouchable, and god, did Mellie want to touch. She wanted nothing more to pull Olivia close and to envelop her into another kiss, sober, and let everything that didn’t happen in the closet happen. But she _couldn’t_ , she just couldn’t, not with the campaign racing toward her.

           

 

So, looking at the ceiling and wishing things were different was the only option left.

 

 

**iv.**

_“I’m sick of you ignoring me, I’m coming to your office later and we’re going to talk whether you like it or not.”_

 

Mellie got Olivia’s text at about 9AM, and since then she could not focus on a single piece of paperwork the entire day. Every word from any paper had to be read multiple times to make any sense in her mind, the words floating around in her brain nothing compared to the half-threat of Olivia, looming over her office like a dark cloud.

           

 

At 3PM, the long awaited (and extremely feared) knock on the door resounded through the office. “Go away!” Mellie yelled from her desk, frustrated because half of her wanted nothing more than to see the woman on the other side of the door, and the other half wanted nothing more than to quench those feelings with some dangerously venomous words.

           

 

“I will not.” Olivia called back, and Mellie could almost imagine her stubborn expression, arms crossed and lips pouted, and she had no idea why she couldn’t just let her own stubbornness fade away. “You know what? I’m coming in.” Olivia swung the door open before Mellie could protest.

           

 

Olivia slammed the door behind her and stood with anger and hurt in her eyes. “You can’t just _ignore_ me, Mellie.”

 

 

“I can do whatever I so please.” Mellie clenched her fists, standing up and rounding her desk to face Olivia, “Now get out of my office.”

           

 

“No. You’re being ridiculous.” Olivia raised an eyebrow, daring Mellie to yell at her, to fight. Yelling and fighting was a lot more therapeutic than ignoring everything involving each other; with Olivia in front of her, Mellie could do anything—whether that be throttle her or slap her or kiss her was still up in the air.

           

 

Mellie tilted her chin up and stood as tall as possible, “I am the Junior Senator of Virginia, _Miss Pope_ , and you will leave my office immediately.”

           

 

Olivia scoffed, and then moved a step closer, looking Mellie directly in the eyes. “Make me.” Mellie’s breath hitched in her throat, heat rising to her cheeks and shooting into her stomach.

           

 

Olivia looked nothing short of perfect, eyes sparkling with the fire of the moment, everything about her absolutely stunning and breathtaking and ripping out the only sane thread of self composure left in her, and suddenly Mellie was grabbing for her and pressing their lips together and threading her hands through Olivia’s hair. And, god, nothing felt better than Olivia’s lips bruising her mouth, tongues sliding against each other, teeth nipping and hands roaming and more, more, more, she needed more. She needed Olivia’s skin on hers and for that ridiculous pea coat to fall limp to the floor, and for Olivia’s nothing-short-of-perfect fall to a wild sense of freedom.

           

 

Mellie felt herself being pushed up against her desk, Olivia’s hands wrapping around Mellie’s thighs and standing in between them, pulling her closer. She ripped her hands from Olivia’s sides and reached behind her, sweeping her arms across the desktop to clear the clusters of papers and pens and open books—one of which fell onto the ground with a large clunk, dragging down a couple paperweights with it. “Shit.” Mellie mumbled into Olivia’s mouth.

           

 

“It’s okay,” Olivia whispered, dragging her lips down across Mellie’s neck, laying her down on the desk. She went to nip Mellie’s collarbone, working her way down, when she saw a purple mark already there. “Did _I_ do that?” Mellie chuckled, nodding her head and bringing Olivia’s lips back up to hers.

           

 

“You’re quite the biter.” Mellie’s voice turned sultry, her lips ghosting just above the shell of Olivia’s ear, “But then again, so am I.” To prove her point she pulled on Olivia’s earlobe with her teeth, feeling Olivia’s reaction under her fingertips.

           

 

“Take off your dress.” Olivia growled, and with that, there was no more talking (other than softly whispered words and names over arching backs and sounds of pleasure piercing the room). Their movements turned ravenous, tearing into each other after so long of a wait. But after all clothes were discarded, after each one of them had had their fill, there was a moment of quiet, of caressed limbs and eyes that couldn’t break contact.

           

 

They quietly collected their clothes and returned to their normal states, a slight buzz in the room. (Olivia had to zip up Mellie’s dress, and neither of them pretended they didn’t feel anything as their skin made contact once more.) Olivia was going to reach for her purse, but she didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to tear her eyes from Mellie’s wild tangle of curls and her blue eyes that (at the moment) were dark with passion. Mellie seemed to sense this, because in a moment of vulnerability she reached for Olivia’s hand, “Stay.”

           

 

Olivia smiled slightly, “Okay.” Mellie was taller than her, but sometimes it seemed that Mellie was looking up at her, smiling with such beautiful eyes that Olivia couldn’t help but reach up and kiss her softly, sweetly, all of the ferocity gone—but it was still like vying for the last pumpkin-themed cupcake.

 

 


End file.
